


Do You Need My Love

by Pixiestick_cc



Series: A light that never goes out [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Deathly Hallows AU, Drama & Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23176723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiestick_cc/pseuds/Pixiestick_cc
Summary: After months apart, Luna and Harry are reunited under difficult circumstances and have to decide how they will move forward.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter
Series: A light that never goes out [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/691755
Comments: 39
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been a while since I updated this series. I always intended to come back, but the more time that passed the less I felt inclined to add another story. Then recently, I had two readers leave comments stating they wished I wouldn't have left the series hanging with Harry and Luna apart. So, here is my attempt to remedy that with a short two-parter.
> 
> You see, sometimes leaving nice comments gets you what you want :)

_-I felt your body scream to be set free_   
_From the pain of what's gone_   
_I'll move you along-_

Weyes Blood

* * *

Luna’s head ached almost constantly. 

She supposed that tended to happen when one was forced to live in a dungeon. Well, cellar to be more precise, but in her weary heart, dungeon felt like a better-suited name. A word reserved for grim fairytales fit perfectly with the dark and dank place she’d been forced to stay in for months now. A dungeon under Malfoy Manor. According to the tally marks scratched into the walls with an old nail she’d found, it was growing close to three. Or so she thought. It was difficult to tell without a window. No sun or moon letting you know when one day ended and another began. Luna had to go purely on intuition. So three months it was. Three months of being away from her father. Three since she’d last seen Hogwarts. But even longer since she parted ways with Harry. Luna had a birthday while locked away and wondered if he remembered. She was seventeen now. It was a silly thought, all things considered. How important was a birthday when you were being held captive ... when screams were bleeding through a dungeon door, making you wonder if you’d be the one shrieking next.

Did Harry hear cries for help too wherever he was? She hoped not.

Luna remembered him once telling her that sometimes it felt like his scar was screaming. She imagined his scar crying out. Another silly thought, but much of her time locked away was occupied with silly thoughts. It was her only means of keeping despair at arms-length. Like her silly idea on how to escape. Without a wand, it was nearly impossible. So she tried to think as a muggle would. Maybe digging a tunnel? She laughed, picturing herself burrowing through the dirt floor using a rock no bigger than her palm. Olivander the wandmaker- a fellow prisoner and her only company- had stared at Luna like she was a loon. It wasn’t sane to laugh. What could possibly be funny down here in their misery? 

And then Luna had a thought, one more sad than silly. All the mocking she and her father experienced was only due to others not being able to see what their eyes could. A hidden magic for a select few. But perhaps it was finally happening. There was nothing magical or unseen about being trapped in a dungeon and it was just enough to make a witch lose her sanity. 

A shiver, cold and crisp, traveled down her spine. For the first time ever, Luna was questioning those old insults, wondering miserably, if they might be true. Was she doomed to become the taunt of Loony Lovegood? After that, all comforting silly thoughts eluded her and she laid down on the hard earth, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. If she gave way to grief and cried, experience told her that the dull ache in her head would turn quite awful. It was one of the reasons she fought so hard against letting sorrow get the best of her. However, at that moment, Luna was unable to find a silly notion to combat the ache in her heart. Not even reminiscing about happy moments with Harry kept the sadness at bay, because those thoughts always twisted into reality in the end. She and Harry were the past, and the present wasn’t nearly as agreeable. Luna was trapped in a dungeon and couldn’t fool herself into believing Harry’s life was any better. He was a wanted wizard. She was simply a political hostage, taken so the _Quibbler_ would post more agreeable stories about _He who must not be named_. She used to take pride in being able to say _his_ name, now she couldn't even bear to think of it.

At least Luna could comfort herself with the knowledge that Harry wasn’t dead. Their connection- as faint as it was- still hummed a tiny tune inside her. Which meant he was likely either hiding or fighting for his life against a Death Eater or some similar evil. Maybe he’d soon be captured and become one of those screaming voices she so often heard. This terrible image broke through what was left of her crumbling wall of hope and released the emotional basin behind it. Hot tears spilled onto the dirt as she sobbed. When someone yelled through the door- perhaps that rat looking fellow- for her to quiet down, Luna swallowed her next cry until it relaxed into a whimper. And then with a mind full of muddle- a gift from a wakspurt, who no doubt needed a dull mind to gnaw on- she drifted into a restless sleep that ended with a scream. Not hers, but it did happen to be a girl’s voice. And a boy was shouting too. He sounded closer.

Then the most surprising sound of all, Harry Potter saying her name, and just before opening her eyes to investigate, Luna presumed she must’ve finally gone mad. What other reason could there be for Loony Lovegood to hear Harry Potter where he most certainly was not.

* * *

Even with the fate of the wizarding world weighing heavily on his shoulders, Harry never once let Luna get buried underneath it all. She’d been a comforting presence in his mind even before they’d gone their separate ways, and in her absence, his thoughts seemed to veer towards her even more. Sometimes she was his guide. He would wonder what she would do in a certain situation- her intuition usually proving correct in the past- and would follow through with what he assumed she’d tell him. Other times, she was his encouragement. Picturing a life with her after the war kept him sane and also reminded him of what he was fighting for. But when Xenophillius admitted she’d been taken away by Death Eaters, Luna then became his constant worry. 

Perhaps making him worry too much. 

Filled with anxiety, he became careless which eventually led to him royally screwing up. How could he have said that name? _His_ name. It was taboo and once spoken, would set a bunch of Death Eaters on whoever was daft enough to speak it. He knew that and yet … out it had come. The easiest blunder to make, and the reason he and Ron were currently being ushered into a cellar under Malfoy Manor, while Hermione was left upstairs taking the brunt of his mistake. Her screams flooded through the door, leaving Ron shattered, crying out to her, and Harry searching in the dark for answers. Anything that would fix this awful mess he’d created!

“Hermione!” Ron struggled against the ropes that tied them together, lurching Harry with every abrupt move he made. 

“Stop jerking me around, Ron. We need a plan, we need to-”

But Harry’s appeal fell on deaf ears. Ron’s anxiety appeared to be just as high as his, except in stark contrast, he was shouting Hermione’s name instead of Voldemort’s. Harry sighed a desperate sound that was drowned out by another scream from above, followed by Ron shouting once more, his two friends engaging in a horrific back and forth. And then in the darkness- his eyes finally adjusting to the limited light glowing through cracks in the door- Harry detected a lump lying on the ground not so far from them. He could just barely make out a shock of long blonde hair falling in waves over a body, like a blanket. A moment later he didn’t even notice when Ron yanked him into another stumble. Harry’s mind emptied of everything except the awareness that was now forcing all the air out of his lungs.

 _Luna!_

_His_ Luna! She was lying on the ground with the soft hue of teal clinging to her. Sadness. Weeks had passed since Harry had last been able to detect emotional auras. The melancholy royal blue Hermione had been surrounded by after Ron temporarily abandoned them had slowly paled into a translucent white until he’d stirred one morning to find it altogether gone. Tears had stung his eyes then. The magic connecting him and Luna had reached its breaking point. Separated too long, he was now back to living not only without her but without her magic too.

But now in a turn of events Harry could've hardly anticipated when he gotten them all captured, she was here, her magic connecting them as if they'd never been apart. He shouted out her name several times in quick succession. When she remained motionless, he reversed roles with Ron and dragged him away from the door.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” he exclaimed, nearly stumbling. “What're you doing? Hermione needs our help.”

“And I’m trying to get her some,” Harry grunted, pulling him until they were standing directly in front of Luna. Ron stopped struggling, his eyes finally seeing what Harry’s already had.

“Luna?” Ron said, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, who else did you think I was calling out ‘Luna’ to?” Slowly they both kneeled on the ground and Harry called to her, wanting badly to brush away the strands of hair that were partially covering her face. “Luna,” he tried again.

This time her eyelids fluttered open and she stared at them, confusion furrowing her brow. “Harry? Ron? Oh, dear. That wakspurt must’ve been greedy and chewed off more than just a little bit of my mind. It seems I’ve finally gone mad.”

Harry chuckled, which probably wasn’t the best reaction to have in a moment of crisis. He imagined Ron was probably eyeing him as if he’d gone barmy. Still, there was just something reassuring about hearing Luna use terms that hadn’t applied to him in a long while. He’d desperately missed her peculiar vernacular. “You aren’t mad, Luna. I’m here. We’re here. And so is Hermione. But she’s in trouble. Do you think you could help get us out of these?” He gently struggled against the ropes for emphasis.

Luna’s eyes widened enough that the silver of her irises shined and the teal surrounding her turned bright yellow. “Oh, it really _is_ you.”

“Well yeah, that’s what he said,” Ron huffed, and Harry silently forgave him for the frustration he so plainly wore. Everything was terrible and needed to be fixed. And Luna was the key.

“Remember when I last saw you, you said, ‘ _Many goodbyes mean many hellos_ ’? Well, this is one of our hellos, Luna.”

Tears spilled down her dirty cheeks unchecked as she sat up. “Oh hello, Harry. Maybe this time we won’t have to say goodbye again.”

Ron made an exasperated noise then barked, “This is all very touching, but could you two lovebirds hurry this along?”

Luna seemed unperturbed, and in fact, her color briefly intensified over Ron’s retort. Harry recognized her shine as determination. “You've always cared so deeply for Hermione, Ron. I’m sure this is quite stressful for you. Let’s go save her, shall we?” Luna pulled a nail from her pocket and held it up for them to see before she began digging into the rope fibers, trying to free the knots. A few more of Hermione’s screams came and went, causing Ron to fight against his binds. “Please, hold still,” Luna said. "We won't be much help to Hermione if I can't get you free," and much to Harry’s surprise, his friend obeyed. After that, it only took a moment more until the ropes fell away and Ron dashed towards the door, leaving them behind.

They needed to hurry. Harry was well aware of that. And still, he stole a short fleeting flash of time for him and Luna. Pulling her into his arms, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and said, "I've missed you so much." Then pausing to pull in a breath, he savored the intimacy of the moment before uttering a phrase he’d been aching to say again since leaving her behind, “I love you.”

She exhaled happily. “I love you too, Harry. I only wish we had more time for a proper hello. But I promise that once we're free, I will cover you with kisses. Until then-” she pulled away, gave him a tiny peck on the lips, and said, “this will have to do." Then escaping his arms, Luna ran towards Ron, a fiery red glow trailing behind her as she went.


	2. Chapter 2

Luna did not think the first few minutes of her reunion with Harry would start with an embrace followed by an argument. And truthfully, she’d given this particular moment a lot of thought during their months-long separation. Too much thought perhaps, which to be fair, was only natural. She’d desperately missed him. But presently, none of it was happening how she’d imagined or even resembled the abridged version she’d described to Barnaby back when things were terrible but not quite so awful as being trapped in a dungeon. 

Harry’s heart was in the right place. Of course, he wanted her safe. But she couldn’t leave him again. Not so soon. Yet, he was insisting she do precisely that by taking Dobby’s hand and disapparating with Olivander to someplace Ron was calling Shell Cottage. “Bill and Fleur’s place,” he’d said, and she had a sudden vivid memory of dancing at their wedding, back when Harry had a different face and she’d been wearing her sunflower dress. It all seemed like such a very long time ago.

“Harry, I want to help. Please, don’t insist I leave,” Luna urgently whispered.

“Luna, you’ve been here for months. You don’t look well.” 

She couldn’t deny his claim and briefly wondered what had given it away, maybe all the anxiety induced tangles she’d twisted her hair into. “And you’ve been on the run,” she countered. “You must be exhausted.”

“But there’s a difference. I’ve been fighting. I might be tired, but I’m still able to defend myself. You’ve been locked away, unable to practice magic and something tells me the Malfoy’s weren’t exactly the type to give you much food and water.”

By the colorful haze swirling around him, Luna knew he wasn’t going to give up, so she changed tactics. “The question isn’t if you can fight. I know you’re very capable. I’ve seen you do it. But rather, I would ask, do you need me? Do you need my love? I can see that is why you want me to leave. You love me, but don’t you think that my love could be better served by your side, keeping you strong?”

Ron exhaled loudly through his nose, clearly frustrated with her and she couldn’t blame him. 

“Luna,” Harry’s voice was measured, which they didn’t have time for and she knew he was only doing it for her sake. “I _do_ need your love, and knowing you’re safe will keep that love alive. So, please,” his voice rose slightly into a plea, “go with Dobby.”

She could see his scar was screaming. Not by any outward action, but through their connection. It pushed his pain along the thread tying them together. Luna made a choice then. She wouldn’t add to the burden that shaped Harry Potter into the man most others recognized him to be and would nurture the side only she was privileged to experience. “I will go. If it will help you be more clear-headed to know I’m safe then that is what I’ll do.” She gently kissed his scar. Her chapped lips against his searing forehead. “Be careful, Harry. Take my love with you and go save Hermione.”

Moving a step backward, she turned her attention to Dobby and stretched out her hand for him to take. “Whenever you’re ready, sir.”

She was vaguely aware of how pleased the elf was to hear her call him sir, and was glad, but found it hard not to reflect on what she and Harry were doing. Saying goodbye. Again. Twisting her neck to give him one last look, she caught Harry mouthing the words _I love you_. She did the same and then the world coiled and spun away until she was standing on a beach made of white sand. Harry was gone. Still, their connection held firm, and as she watched Dobby disapparate back to him, she sent a message along with the breeze tousling her hair. “I’ll be safe for you, so please be safe for me.”

A short time later, Fleur and Bill came out from their home. Luna helped them bring Olivander inside, but she came back out and waited. It seemed like the world was falling away from her as she sat there reaching down their unifying thread, feeling Harry there, yet unsure of how he was fairing until he apparated all at once mere inches from where she sat. Surprised, Luna dug her heels and palms into the sand and scrambled backward, before blinking to clear her view. Harry wasn’t alone. There was a goblin, Hermione- who looked extremely ill as she clung to Ron- and Dobby. 

_Dobby!_

Luna pushed past the group to be near Harry, who was holding the elf. She blinked again to see if what she saw was real and came to the tragic conclusion that it was. Dobby’s chest was heaving, a knife protruding from it and then a moment later he stilled.

Luna didn’t want Harry forced into removing the weapon and knelt beside him. For the first time, he became aware of her presence. “Luna,” he whispered as if momentarily dazed. And then he whimpered. The softness of it, the pain she felt not only in his sobs but through their connection, moved her into action. Gently, she withdrew the knife and rather gruesomely used it to cut away her sleeve until the fabric presented Dobby with a makeshift blanket to cover the blood that continued to pour from his wound. Then, just like she remembered her father doing to her mother, Luna placed her fingers tenderly upon each of Dobby’s eyelids and slid them over his glassy stare.

_“There, there, Luna dear. You see, your mummy is only sleeping.”_

She wouldn’t lie as her father had. His denial to accept the awful truth of what happened led to some confusing moments in the days after for little Luna. So instead she spoke something comforting. “There. Now he could be only sleeping if you choose to imagine it so.”

Harry’s expression was a mixture of pain and gratitude. And then, there on the beach, he wept over Dobby’s little body along with her as the breeze turned their hot tears to ice.

* * *

Harry could hardly remember the hastily thrown together funeral, only that he’d stubbornly refused to use magic as he dug Dobby’s grave and how patient Luna was with him throughout it all. Despite her own trauma of being locked away in Malfoy’s cellar, she was still an unending river of kindness not only for him but for those he loved as well. She’d never truly known Dobby, only heard stories about him, and still, his death was treated with as much compassion as she might’ve given a dearly departed family member.

“I think we ought to say something,” she’d said after Dobby was laid to rest. “I’ll go first, shall I?” When no one from their small group of mourners objected, she began a short soliloquy about how Dobby had rescued her and how she would never forget his bravery or the life he sacrificed for them.

And Harry knew too that he would never forget. Not just Dobby, but Luna’s reaction to his death. Her love and tenderness never wavered and even if he was well aware it was only his grief manifesting when he wondered if he was worthy of her love, he still indulged the miserable thought. Harry felt extremely undeserving in the hours after the funeral when everyone else had gone inside while he remained at Dobby’s graveside.

_“Do you need my love?”_

He was well aware that he needed it, but shame over failing Dobby bridged into despair over Luna. Maybe he should’ve listened to her. If she’d fought alongside him like she wanted, things might have gone differently. 

_Yeah, like, I dunno, you could’ve lost them both._

The longer he stayed outside the more annoying his conscience became with its reasonable replies to his angst. Harry wished it would just shut up and give him a few days to stew. But time wasn’t really on his side, and so logic won out in the end as Harry stood, ready to accept a world without Dobby and one where he did, in fact, deserve Luna’s love.

Turning to face the cottage, Harry momentarily froze after noticing Luna sanding nearby. Her torn and soot-covered outfit from the cellar had been replaced with a simple lavender dress that came to her knees and her hair was neatly plaited. She’d pulled the braid over one shoulder and was nervously fiddling with the strands of hair at the end. “You look so much better,” Harry blurted without thinking. When Luna’s forehead creased like she didn't understand, he quickly amended his flub. “I uh, that is, you look cleaned up. Healthier.” 

Her expression eased into a demure smile. “Fleur helped. I suppose this _is_ much better than what I was wearing, but I do feel it is a bit impractical for me to be in a dress, don’t you? The hair is ...” she paused for a moment before settling on, “Acceptable.”

In another life, Harry would’ve found charm in her response and laughed; Luna likely would’ve been perplexed by his reaction and asked if she’d said something wrong. Yet now, he could only muster a smile. At least there was that. He hadn’t lost his ability to experience all forms of happiness. A few seconds transpired where they both stood there, unsure of what to say as the ebb and flow of the sea filled the space between them. Then finally, Luna found her voice with an apology. “I’m sorry about what my father did to you.”

Harry’s jaw fell slightly open. “How’d you-”

“Ron was speaking with Bill. They were doing quite a bit of catching up, so please don’t be cross with him. I was listening when I wasn’t actually supposed to be a part of the conversation.”

Harry fought the frown that wanted to break free. He hated that he was still angry. Xenophillius was just doing what he thought was right in order to get Luna back. It just so happened that this meant Harry had been used as Death Eater bait. The whole world had gone mad and was doing whatever it could to survive. Maybe he’d be able to forgive him one day. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re safe now. He’ll be glad to know that. We’ll find a way to get word to him. Not sure an owl would be secure enough, but maybe Bill has some ideas.”

Luna nodded and then stretched out her hand. “Fleur made dinner for everyone. We don’t have to join them, but it would probably be wise to eat something. We’ve both gone some time without a proper meal. Maybe we could eat outside.”

She was able to read him so well. The idea of being around anyone but her made his stomach squirm with phantom snakes. “Yeah, I’d like that. Just you and me,” he replied, watching as her glow turned a shade similar to her dress.

They ate under the stars, the sea providing a calming background noise to drown out their dreadful day full of reunions and goodbyes. Few words were spoken. They weren’t needed. Their connection hummed, inaudibly revealing the love and regret flowing between them, until Harry said, “You know, I’ve tried to keep you safe so many times, but I just don’t think it matters. I can’t do it. I can’t be your protector. I can only let you be who you are. And you’ve been what I’ve needed for a long time now.”

“Harry?” Luna’s voice was a soft murmur.

“I want you to come with us. I’m not sure what’s next. I’ll have to talk with Ron and Hermione, but whatever we do, I want you there.” Harry reached instinctively for her. Luna’s fork clattered onto her plate and she set it aside, before letting him envelop her hands in his. Their eyes locked. The stars and moon cast a soft glow over her face, and he wondered about the faraway look he saw there. “That is … only if you want to. It's your choice. I’d rather not make-”

“Of course, I’ll go with you, Harry. I only wish …” She paused and bit her lip. “I wish that Barnaby was here to see this. He was resolute in thinking you would never give in and let me fight alongside you.”

Harry chuckled and was pleased to learn he was still capable of making such a sound. “Where’s Barnaby anyway?”

“Oh, at Hogwarts, I suppose. He made some new friends there and refused to come home with me for Christmas. It’s just as well, considering the Death Eaters came for me on the train.”

Her quiet sigh wasn’t lost on Harry and instead of letting her fall down a sorrow hole, he moved in and pressed a kiss against Luna’s lips. She quickly molded into him, prolonging the intimate moment enough that Harry was sure he tasted ratatouille in his mouth when he finally pulled away, something she’d been eating, not him.

“That was nice,” Luna mused, standing, indicating she was ready to go inside. “We should do more of that later.”

“Yeah, later,” Harry responded with a smirk as he followed her back towards the cottage entrance, their empty plates in hand. “Luna, wait, there’s something I’d like to tell you,” he said, coming to a stop just outside the door. She turned on her heel, expectantly. “Something I don’t plan on saying again, so you better put it away inside your mind once I’m through.”

“What is it?”

Harry stood a little straighter and stated, “Hello, Luna."

A corner of her mouth quirked upward as understanding lit her face. There would be no need to say hello again when you never planned to part. "Oh hello, Harry," she replied, her small smile growing into a full-on beam.

"I promise, Luna, as long as I’m able, I will keep you from ever having to say goodbye to me again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have one more idea for a short story in this universe that I might write in the future. For now, I hope this helps those of you who wanted Luna and Harry back together.
> 
> If you enjoyed what I wrote please consider leaving a comment.


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